Garth's Christmas Carol
by Daniel Fielder
Summary: When Bruce Wayne is visited by the spirit of his old business partner, Slade Wilson, he must change his ways or be condemned. Yes, this is another Christmas Carol fic.
1. Slade's Ghost

Another Legion-Disney mash-up, and this time, a certain industrialist is the hero.

Disclaimer: Mickey's Christmas Carol belongs to Walt Disney, and Legion of Superheroes belongs to Warner Brothers, and the characters from that and any other DC character I use belongs to DC Comics.

 **Garth's Christmas Carol**

Chapter 1: Slade's Ghost

In Gotham City, on Christmas Eve, the stingiest man in town, Bruce Wayne, walked down the street. There was no Christmas cheer in his heart though. Bruce hated the whole idea of Christmas. As he walked, he passed a homeless man as he outstretched his hand.

"Give a penny for the poor sir." The man said. "Penny for the poor."

"Bah." Bruce said simply before continuing to his counting house, Wayne & Wilson. Bruce never bothered to paint out Slade's name.

"My partner Slade Wilson." Bruce said calmly. "Dead seven years today. He was a good businessman. He robbed from the widows and swindled the poor."

Bruce looked at the sign and smirked.

"In his will he left me enough money for his tombstone, and I had him buried at sea." Bruce chuckled to himself.

()()()()()

Inside the store, Bruce's bookman, Garth Ranzz, was about to put a thing of coal in the fire while Bruce was out when he came in.

"Oh… Uh…" Garth said nervously. "Good morning Mr. Wayne."

"Ranzz, what are you doing with that piece of coal?!" Bruce asked angrily.

"I was just trying to thaw out the ink, sir." Garth said timidly as he pointed to the ice covered ink quill.

"You used a piece last week!" Bruce snapped as he grabbed the coal and tossed it in a bucket. "Now get on with your work, Ranzz!"

"Speaking of work Mr. Wayne tomorrow is Christmas, and I was wondering if I could have… Half the day off?"

"Christmas." Bruce spat angrily as he thought. "Mm… Oh, I suppose so, but I'll dock you half a day's pay. Now let's see… I pay you two dollars a day."

"Uh, two dollars and a quarter, sir." Garth corrected.

"Oh right." Bruce said. "I gave you that raise three years ago."

"Yes sir." Garth said. "When I started doing your laundry."

"Alright Ranzz, get busy while I go over my books, oh and I've got another bundle of shirts for you." Bruce said as he tossed a moderately large laundry bag at Clark.

"Yes sir." Garth said quickly.

Bruce then sat down and went over his notes as a large amount of money sat in front of him.

"Now let's see…" Bruce mused. "One hundred and twelve dollars from Jordan, plus his eighty-percent interest, compounded daily…"

Bruce laughed as he played a little with a few coins.

"Money, money, money."

Then the door opened, and Bruce's nephew and only living relative, Dick came in.

"Merry Christmas!" Dick called out.

"And a merry Christmas to you, Dick." Garth said as he took a break from his books to talk to Dick.

"Bah humbug." Bruce muttered.

"Merry Christmas, Uncle Bruce!" Dick called out with a smile.

"What's so merry about it?" Bruce asked moodily. "I'll tell you what Christmas is, it's just another work day, and any jackanapes who thinks else should be boiled in his own pudding!"

"Ew." Dick remarked.

"But sir Christmas is a time for giving." Garth said quickly. "A time to be with one's family."

"I say 'Bah humbug.'" Bruce said stubbornly.

"I don't care!" Dick called out. "I say 'Merry Christmas!'"

"Well said Dick!" Garth called out as he applauded.

"Ranzz, what are you doing?!" Bruce asked angrily.

"Uh…" Garth said nervously as he stopped clapping. "Just trying to keep my hands warm, sir."

"And what are you doing here, Nephew?" Bruce asked testily.

"I've come to give you a reef and invite you to Christmas dinner." Dick said as he handed Bruce the reef.

"Well…" Bruce said with a smile. "I suppose you're going to have plump goose with chestnut dressing?"

"Yup." Dick confirmed.

"And will you have plum pudding and lemon sauce?" Bruce continued.

"Oh yeah!" Dick said with a widening smile.

"And spiced sugar cakes with candied fruit?" Bruce finished.

"Yes!" Dick said excitedly. "Yes! Will you come?"

"Are you insane?" Bruce snapped. "You know I can't eat that stuff, now get out!"

"Alright." Dick said as he put the reef on the door. "Merry Christmas!"

"And a bah humbug to you!" Bruce shouted back, but Dick had already left.

"That Dick." Garth said with a chuckle. "Always so full of kindness."

"Yeah." Bruce said. "He always was a little peculiar." The door opened again. "And stubborn!"

Instead of Dick, a Coluan man was there with a rotund man with black hair walked in.

"Oh, customers." Bruce said with an excited smile. "I'll handle this, Ranzz."

Bruce then walked up to the two.

"Yes, what can I do for you two gentlemen?" Bruce asked.

"Sir, I'm Brainiac 5, and this is my associate, Chuck Taine." Brainiac 5 said. "We are soliciting funds for the impudent and destitute."

"For the what?" Bruce asked.

"We're collecting money for the poor." Chuck translated.

"Oh…" Bruce said. "Well, you do realize that if you give money to the poor, they won't be poor anymore."

"Well that's true." Chuck said.

"And if they're not poor anymore, then you won't have to raise money for them anymore." Bruce went on, putting on a concerned front.

"Well, I suppose." Brainiac 5 admitted.

"And if you don't have to raise money for them anymore, then you would be out of a job." Bruce said as he opened the door, and the two walked out. "Oh please gentlemen, don't ask me to put you out of a job, not on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, we'd never do that, Mr. Wayne." Brainiac 5 said.

"Well then," Bruce finished, going back to his normal manner at once. "I suggest you give this to the poor and be gone!"

He tossed the wreath Dick had given him at Chuck who caught it reflexively and slammed the door in their faces.

"What's this world coming to, Ranzz?" Bruce asked as Garth turned to listen. "You work all your life to get money, and people want you to give it away."

()()()()()

As the day came to its end, Garth used a nearby lamp to keep himself warm, which wasn't too easy. He then glanced over at the clock and smiled when he saw that it was only fifteen seconds until quitting time. Finishing up his last sentence, he closed the book and got ready to head home.

"Two minutes fast." Bruce remarked as Garth gulped and was about to get back to work when Bruce stopped him. "Eh, never mind those two minutes. You can go now."

"Thank you, sir!" Garth said as he hopped down. "You're so kind-"

"Never mind the mushy stuff!" Bruce shouted. "Just go, but be here all the earlier the next afternoon!"

"I will!" Garth said excitedly. "I will sir, and a bah hum- I mean, a merry Christmas to you sir!"

Garth then picked up the bag of Bruce's shirts and walked off as all Bruce said in reply was, "Bah."

()()()()()

At nine at night, Bruce closed up the counting house and walked off to his house, which had once belonged to Slade. As Bruce unlocked the door, he looked at the knocker just as it turned into Slade Wilson's face. With the eye patch over his right eye, and the goatee.

"Wayne…" Slade said in an eerie voice.

"Slade Wilson?" Bruce asked in shock. "No, that can't be!"

Thinking he was just wearied from a good day's work, he touched the knocker's nose, and exclaimed in a way that frightened Bruce so badly, he ran into the house. After catching his breath, he put what had happened off as stress with all the fools he had to deal with that day. He then began to walk upstairs when he heard footsteps coming up behind him. He turned, but no one was there. He went on, and again he heard the footsteps. He turned around again, but still no one was there. He looked down from the stairway, but nothing was there either. He walked on when he heard the footsteps for a third time and turned to see a shadow of a man with the goatee of Slade. Bruce shouted in shock and terror and rushed to his living room, bolting the door and hiding in his seat.

"Bruce Wayne…" Slade's voice called out from the other side of the door.

"GO AWAY!" Bruce shouted as a blue-white, transparent version of Slade Wilson walked in. Aside from his usually tuxedo, Slade also wore a long chain with cash boxes and safes attached to it.

"Bruce W-AHH!" Slade explained as he tripped on a lose rug and ended up landing right next to his chair.

"A bit more hazardous here than I remember." Slade said calmly as he got up and looked at Bruce, apparently noticing a look of terror.

"Wayne, don't you recognize me?" Slade asked. "In life I was your partner, Slade Wilson."

Bruce hadn't wanted to believe it, but looking at Slade's face, he was forced to, and that actually helped to calm him down a little.

"Wilson, it is you." Bruce said as his eyes widened.

"Bruce," Slade said as he stood straight up. "Remember when I was alive, I robbed the widows and swindled the poor?"

"Yes, and all on the same day." Bruce said with a smile at the memories. "Oh, you had class Slade."

"Yup." Slade said with a smug look before shaking his head. "Wait, no! No! I was wrong, and so as punishment, I'm forced to carry these chains for eternity! … Maybe even longer. With no hope. I'm doomed! Doomed!"

Slade then turned his face to Bruce.

"And the same thing will happen to you, Bruce Wayne."

"No!" Bruce gasped in fear as he recoiled from the chains that were close by his chair. "No it can't! It mustn't! Help me, Slade!"

"Tonight, you will be visited by three spirits." Slade informed Bruce. "Listen to them, and do what they say, or your chains will be heavier than mine."

Bruce agreed nervously as he turned nervously around.

"Farewell Bruce…" Slade called out as he walked back, making sure to be mindful of the rug. "Farewell . . ."

"Wilson!" Bruce called out as he remembered something about the stairway. "Watch out for that first-"

There were several loud screams and grunts as Slade Wilson's ghost fell down the stairs.

"Step." Bruce finished before going off to bed.

* * *

Spooky, huh?


	2. The First of the Spirits

Chapter Two: The First of the Spirits

That night, Bruce searched his room all over with a candle before putting it on the table.

"Spirits." He scoffed. He'd obviously been stressed as he got into bed and blew out his candle. "Humbug!"

Bruce then went to sleep without undressing.

()()()()()

As Bruce slept, a young man walked up. His hair was black, and he was dressed in a blue shirt with a red cape and jeans. He starred at the fire place, and the fire came on. He then rang the bell on the clock, which read two o'clock, but Bruce continued sleeping.

"Oh boy." The young man groaned. He rang the bell again, and Bruce got up.

"Oh, what?" Bruce asked.

"Well it's about time." The young man said. "Haven't got all night, you know."

"Who… Who are you?" Bruce asked in surprise.

"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past." The young man said. "You can call me Clark for short."

"I would think someone like you would look a little older." Bruce observed.

"Well Bruce, if men were aged by kindness, you'd be no older than a new-born babe." Clark retorted calmly.

"Kindness is of little use in this world." Bruce said as he prepared to go back to sleep.

"You didn't always think so." Clark said. "Come on, Bruce, it's time to go."

"Then go." Bruce said agitatedly when Clark walked to a window, and opened it.

"Clark!" Bruce called out in alarm. "What are you doing?!"

"We're going to visit your past." Clark explained.

"I'm not going out there." Bruce countered. "I'll fall."

"Take my hand, and you'll be lifted." Clark said, as Bruce apprehensively took Ben's hand, and they were flying above London in an instant, having a wild ride.

()()()()()

They stopped at a small shop.

"Clark, I think I know this place." Bruce mused. "Yes! It's old Lucius Fox's! I couldn't have worked for a kinder man."

Inside the shop, Lucius, alive again, was dancing with his wife, children, and several others.

"Why it's old Fox himself!" Bruce exclaimed. "And all of my very dearest friends!"

Bruce then turned to a shy boy who looked very much like his nephew Dick, but with blue eyes.

"And that shy boy in the corner, that's me." Bruce remarked.

"Yes." Clark said. "Before you became a miserable miser consumed by greed."

"Well nobody's perfect." Bruce defended before looking at a black-haired girl with blue eyes. "There she is. There's lovely Selina."

()()()()()

Selina walked up to the younger Bruce.

"Bruce?" Selina asked. "Bruce."

"Yes, Selina?" Bruce asked nervously as Selina pulled him under the mistletoe.

"My eyes are closed, my lips are puckered, and I'm standing under the mistletoe." Selina said.

"You're also standing on my foot." Bruce pointed out before Selina chuckled, and they began dancing with everybody as Bruce smiled. The dance ended with Selina kissing Bruce's cheek, and his mind went to mush.

()()()()()

"Oh, I remember how much I was in love with her." Bruce said nostalgically when there was a sudden wind, and the entire area became darkened.

"In ten years' time, you learned to love something else." Clark said as Bruce looked around and found himself in a very familiar place.

"It's my counting house!" Bruce said in surprise.

"Yes." Clark said. "You had just formed your partnership with Slade. Your business was new, but your ways were set."

"Oh, Clark!" Bruce said as he suddenly remembered the day. "Spare me the rest!"

"You have to drain the cup to the dregs for this trip to do good." Clark said. "Recall how you drove love from your heart and replaced it with the worship of money."

()()()()()

"Nine-thousand four-hundred and forty two." Bruce said as he put a coin on top of a large pile from several foreclosures and debt payments. "Nine-thou-"

"Bruce?" Selina asked from behind the pile of coins.

"Yes, what is it?" Bruce asked.

"For years I've had the honeymoon cottage Bruce." Selina said. "I've been waiting for you to keep your promise to marry me. Now I must know, have you made your decision?"

"I have!" Bruce said finally as he pulled out the mortgage paper of the cottage. "Your last payment on the cottage was an hour late! I'm foreclosing the mortgage!"

()()()()()

Bruce watched Selina burst into tears and walk away.

 _Go after her you young fool!_ Bruce called out angrily at his past self.

"You loved your money more than that precious girl, and you lost her forever." Clark reminded him as a look of anger crossed Selina's face as she closed the door, causing the pile of gold to crash down on the table.

"Please spirit." Bruce moaned. "I can no longer bare these memories. Take me home."

"Remember Bruce." Clark said as the scene, and Clark, was beginning to fade away. "You fashioned these memories yourself…"

* * *

Wow. Talk about a dumb choice, huh?


	3. The Second of the Spirits

Chapter Three: The Second of the Spirits

Back on Bruce's own bed, he still brooded about his mistakes.

"Why was I so foolish?" Bruce asked himself. "Why? Why?"

Suddenly, a light shone in through his curtains, and he looked on in surprise.

"What's this?" Bruce asked as he looked through the curtains to see a slim man in an all red suit.

"Come in and know me better, Bruce." The man said.

"Please, don't hurt me." Bruce said nervously.

"Why would the Ghost of Christmas Present, that's me, you can call me Barry, hurt a distasteful little miser like you, especially when there are so many good things to enjoy in life."

As Bruce came out, he noticed that the room was full of food.

"Oh…" Bruce said in awe. "Mince pies. Turkeys. Suckling pig."

"And don't forget the chocolate pot roast!" Barry said excitedly. "With pistachio yogurt."

"But where did all this come from?" Bruce asked.

"From the heart, Bruce." Barry explained. "It's the food of generosity which you have long denied your fellow man."

"Generosity?!" Bruce asked angrily. "Nobody's ever shown me generosity!"

"You've never given them reason to." Barry explained calmly. "And yet, there are those who still find enough warmth in their hearts even for the likes of you."

"No acquaintance of mine." Bruce said coldly. "I assure you."

"Oh, you'll see." Barry said as he pulled Bruce by his shirt neck, and zipped around town to find the right house.

()()()()()

Eventually, Barry stopped and showed Bruce an old, extremely modest shack.

"Here we are." Barry said calmly.

"Why did you bring me to this old shack?" Bruce asked.

"This is the home of your overworked, underpaid employee, Garth Ranzz." Barry said, pushing Bruce up close to the window.

Bruce looked in the window and found a blonde woman, who could only be Ranzz's wife, cooking an extremely small bird.

"What's she cooking, a canary?" Bruce asked rhetorically. "Surely they have more food than that. Look on the fire."

"That's your laundry." Barry pointed out as they looked at a bubbling pot.

()()()()()

Inside the Ranzz home, Peter's twin daughters, Dacey and Doritt, were trying to get at their presents, only to be stopped by his twin sister, Ayla. She looked perfectly like her brother, but obviously female.

"Oh, I don't think so." Ayla said with a smile as she picked the two eight-year-olds up.

"Now kids, we've gotta wait for Little Graym." Garth said calmly.

"Daddy." Garth's youngest son, a ginger four-year-old named Graym, said. "I'm coming, Daddy."

Garth walked up quickly to his son, hobbling down the steps on his cane, as Garth picked him up.

"Hey little buddy." Garth said as he set Graym down while Ayla helped Garth's wife, Imra, set Dacey and Doritt down as well.

"Wow, look at all the wonderful things to eat!" Graym said excitedly. "We must thank Mr. Wayne."

"Right." Garth said kindly. "To my employer, Mr. Wayne, the founder of the feast."

"'Feast' indeed." Imra said sadly, so only Garth could hear. "With a goose barely bigger than a canary."

"Come on Imra, it's Christmas." Garth said kindly.

"Oh alright." Imra said. "To Mr. Wayne."

Graym smiled. Then, seeing that his father only had a little bit of goose, he offered Garth his piece, but Garth kindly refused and hugged his son.

()()()()()

"Tell me, Barry." Bruce said with a pain in his heart, he'd never felt before. "What's wrong with that kind boy?"

"Much, I'm afraid." Barry said. "If these shadows remain unchanged, all I can see is an empty chair where Little Graym Ranzz once sat and a little clutch without an owner."

"Then that means…" Bruce said weakly. "Graym will…"

Bruce turned around, and Barry had completely disappeared.

"Barry, where are you?!" Bruce called out. "Don't go! You must tell me about Graym! Don't go!"

Suddenly, an odd black fog covered his vision as Bruce coughed and when the fog cleared, he found himself in a graveyard.

"How did I-?" Bruce began before looking up and his eyes widened in fear. "Who… Who are you?"

* * *

Aw, poor Graym.


	4. The Last of the Spirits

Chapter Four: The Last of the Spirits

The figure that Bruce saw was a green figure dressed all in purple, with two large red eyes. The figure was slim, but he stood over Bruce, draping him in the figure's shadow.

"Are you the ghost of Christmas Future?" Bruce asked.

The spirit nodded its head.

"Please speak to me." Bruce requested. "What will happen to Graym Ranzz?"

The spirit pointed several feet away where the Ranzz family was. Imra was standing there solemnly as she comforted her two children, and Ayla stood there as well with tears streaming down her face. As they walked off, Garth stayed, holding the little crutch Graym had used, clutching it tight, and a tear of his own falling down his face. He then set it near the tombstone as Bruce understood what had happened.

"Oh no, dear heaven let it not be." Bruce said as he felt for his poor clerk. "Spirit, I didn't mean for this to happen. Tell me these events can still be changed."

Suddenly, he heard two men laughing. One had dark brown hair and very young and moderately muscular while the other had black hair, a rather plain face and middle-aged.

"I've never seen a funeral like this before." The man with dark brown hair said.

"Yeah." His friend said. "No mourners. No friends to bid him farewell."

"Oh well." The first man said. "Let's rest a minute before we fill it in. He's not going anywhere."

They walked off as Bruce at the spirit approached the grave.

"Whose lonely grave is this?" Bruce asked nervously as the spirit pointed down, and Osborn read on the tombstone his own name, "Bruce Wayne."

Bruce then looked up to see that the spirit had lowered himself to Bruce's level, and Bruce made out three diodes on his head.

"Why yours, Bruce." The spirit said with a wicked grin and a cold, detached voice. "The richest man in the cemetery."

The spirit pushed Bruce in as he grabbed a tree root for dear life as the spirit only starred on. When Bruce looked down, the coffin opened, and red hot fire was spilling out of it.

"Oh no!" Bruce called out. "No!"

Bruce suddenly lost his grip on the root and fell into the coffin while the spirit laughed, and Bruce screamed, "I'll change! I'LL CHANGE…!"

Then, all was darkness.

* * *

Well that was short sweet, and terrifying.


	5. The End of It

Chapter Five: The End of It

Bruce was on a hard surface as he struggled with a dark object covering him.

"Spirit!" Bruce shouted out. "Spirit, let me out! I'll… Huh?"

Bruce opened his eyes and saw that he was on the floor of his own room, with the sun shining in.

"Why I'm back in my own room." Bruce said in surprise. He then looked outside and gasped in honest surprise. "Christmas morning! I haven't missed it! The spirits have given me another chance!"

Bruce quickly changed into another suit.

"I know just what I'll do!" Bruce said with a smile in his eyes. "They'll be so surprised."

()()()()()

Chuck and Brainiac 5 were looking at children play when a very familiar figure appeared.

"Merry Christmas to one and all!" Bruce cried out as he walked up. "Hello, gentlemen. I'm sorry about what happened; allow me to make it up to you with this."

Bruce handed Chuck a bag of two hundred dollars.

"Two hundred dollars?" Brainiac 5 said in awe.

"Not a penny less." Bruce said with a smile. "I hope to see you again next year. Merry Christmas."

"Thanks pal." Chuck said. "And a very merry Christmas to you too."

()()()()()

All that day, Bruce said "Merry Christmas" to everyone he saw, and some were shocked while others smiled and said it back. On the road, Bruce ran into Dick and his wife, Kory.

"Ah, Dick." Bruce said with a smile.

"Uncle Bruce?" Dick asked blankly.

"I'm looking forward to that wonderful meal of yours." Bruce went on as his heart felt ten sizes bigger seeing the look of surprise and joy on Dick's face.

"You mean you're coming?!" Dick asked.

"Of course." Bruce went on. "You know how much I love candied fruits with spiced sugar cakes. I'll be over promptly at two. Keep it piping hot, and I'm looking forward to meeting you too, dear."

"I will Uncle Bruce!" Dick called out. "And a very merry Christmas to you!"

"That is being your uncle who was so the moody?" Kory asked in her Tamaranian accent.

"I guess he had a change of heart." Dick said with a smile.

()()()()()

"Merry Christmas, and keep the change." Bruce said as he gave the clerk the payment for his bundle and walked out as three little children passed by, playing.

"Wonderful lads." Bruce said kindly. "And now for Ranzz."

Bruce arrived at Garth's house and knocked on the door, struggling to keep the stern face he'd had the previous day. Garth opened the door and starred.

"Why Mr. Wayne!" Garth said in surprise. "Merry Christmas. Won't you come in?"

Bruce entered and walked inside. The place was just like it was when he visited the previous night, save the fact that the table had been cleaned up.

"Merry Christmas." Bruce grunted. "I've got another bundle for you."

"But sir, it's Christmas day." Garth said.

"Christmas." Bruce went on. "Just another excuse for being lazy. And another thing, Ranzz. I've had enough of this half-day off stuff! You leave me no alternative but to give you-"

"Toys!" Graym called out as he opened the bundle and found the toys Bruce had bought for Graym, and his older siblings.

"Yes toys." Bruce said. "No, no, no. I mean to say, I'm giving you a raise and making you my partner."

"A partner?!" Garth said excitedly as Imra pulled out the biggest goose Osborn could find, and they all starred at it. "Oh, thank you, Mr. Wayne."

"Merry Christmas, Garth." Bruce said as he lifted Graym, holding a teddy bear, up.

"And God bless us, everyone." Graym observed.

Dacey and Doritt then played with their new toys next to Bruce as he sat in a rocking chair while Garth, Imra, and Ayla watched on happily. This was indeed the first of many merry Christmases with Bruce Wayne and Graym, who with Bruce's help got better.

* * *

Hooray Bruce!


End file.
